


Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-03
Updated: 2007-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:11:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In December 2018, Veronica receives an anonymous phone call out of the blue: “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Duncan Kane.” The investigation leads her to better understand her past, her present, and the big choice she’s just made for her future…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic, together with ["Bohemian Carol"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/196225), are two alternate versions of the same future, this one light and the other one dark. Both fics, however, are entirely self-contained.

*R-RING!*

With a tired groan, Veronica pulled the blanket further over her head and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

*R-RING!*

She let out a little whimper, a silent plea running through her mind: _Hang up, hang up, hang up, hang…_

*R-RING!*

And, it was at this point that her mind finally woke up enough to realize that this call wasn’t going to go away. With a disapproving grunt, she managed to disentangle herself from where her fiancé had trapped her in an elaborate web of warm, comforting limbs, and glanced at the clock. Four-fifteen in the morning. Just great.

*R-RING!*

Glaring at her aforementioned fiancé and his ability to sleep through her current, ever-so-annoying ring-tone, her hand reached out for her phone and captured it after a couple of false jabs.

“Hello?” she asked, turning her back to the bed in an effort to keep down the sleep-jarring noise. Just because she was jealous didn’t mean she had to be inconsiderate…

“Veronica Mars?” The voice was mechanical and low. Spoken through some sort of voice-altering device.

That instantly had her awake. “Who is this?” she demanded, checking her caller ID. All she got was a series of dashes for her trouble – an untraceable number.

“If you know what’s good for you,” the altered voice sounded eerie in the quiet of her home which had so recently seemed so safe, “you’ll stay away from Duncan Kane.” And then, with a click, it was gone.

Veronica sat there for a moment, heart pounding, staring at the inert phone clasped in her hand. A trickle of fear slid down her spine, and it was something she hadn’t felt in so long that she’d almost forgotten the trials of her past. And then, slowly, the raw shock faded, and that analytical part of her brain took over, racing a mile a minute…

“Mmm…Veronica?” a sleep-hazed voice caused her to jump.

“Hey, baby.” She brushed the hair back from his forehead with one absent-minded hand. “Go back to sleep.”

“Who was that?” But she could already tell he was drifting off.

“Just a wrong number.” Little white lies still fell so easily to her lips, even though she’d been out of the PI gig for over a decade now. “Go back to sleep,” she repeated her entreaty. “You’ve got that big day tomorrow.”

But his eyes were already closed, mouth opened slightly as his breathing evened out into the rhythm of sleep.

Veronica breathed a small sigh of relief. Normally, she worried that their jobs could keep them apart sometimes for weeks at a time, but this time it worked to her advantage. She’d just spent the last three weeks in Istanbul, shooting her first big spread in Newsweek. Most days she’d been too busy to miss him; nights had been another matter. And, needless to say, their reunion tonight had been particularly…exuberant. It also had the side-effect of making him quite thoroughly exhausted. It gave her time to think.

 _“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Duncan Kane.”_

At first glance, the warning was so improbable, so bizarre, that she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it.

 _“Stay away from Duncan Kane.”_

But then, as she considered it, possibilities started to form in her mind. It had to have something to do with his big senate campaign, right? Duncan’s face had been plastered over every television set in California for the past three months. He’d even made national news on more than one occasion. With a face like that, they said, he would be a prime candidate for the presidency one day. Young (barely above the minimum age of thirty, in fact, as his opponents were so fond of mentioning), charming, and charismatic, Duncan had swept the election last month and was headed for Big Things.

 _“Stay away…”_

Of course, there were other possibilities. Ones that, no matter how uncomfortable, she had to consider. Her name and Duncan Kane’s had been intertwined for far too long not to consider them. Most of the grief she’d gotten in the past had been from the other women in his life, or women who _wanted_ to be in his life. The prom picture of the two of them, looking so blissfully in love, burned into her brain, looking far too much like a picture from a generation before, Jake and Lianne…

 _“Stay away…”_

But, no, that was catty of her to think, anyway. Most likely this was political. Their teenage years had been surrounded by scandal and sensation. Their names forever tied to murder, sex, lies, fire, and blood. And a third name – Logan Echolls – twisted into the mix for added fun.

If someone had a political agenda surrounding Duncan – either for or against him – she could very well prove to be his Achilles’ heel. The one who knew his deepest, darkest secrets…

 _“Stay away…”_

Subconsciously, she twisted her engagement ring about on her finger. She’d only been wearing it for three months now, but already toying with it had become a nervous habit. The engagement was a permanent fixture in her life, so in a way it was fitting. Thumb glancing over the brilliant blue flare of the sapphire, testing and memorizing its contours…

Yes, she finally concluded, if someone wanted her to stay away from Duncan, it would have to be a twisted combination of both. The personal and the political.

And, also, if they were naïve enough to think that a warning phone call would scare away Veronica Mars, they didn’t know her at _all_.

Veronica didn’t like being threatened. And she was going to find whoever made that call, and tell them straight to their face.

***

Logan watched Duncan smile and wave, as the crowd cheered all around him. In a lot of ways, things never changed from high-school. Duncan was still the most popular kid around, loved by the common man despite his wealth, considered a fighter for the underprivileged despite his inherent tendency toward inaction, smooth, slick, and untouchable. Back in high-school, junior year, Logan had tricked Duncan into running for student council president. Even back then, he’d known that Duncan had had What It Takes for politics. Far more than Logan had ever had; he’d always been more of a ‘power behind the throne’ type.

But he and Duncan had long since parted ways, as so many friends from high-school did, and he was more than a little grateful that he wasn’t the power behind _this_ throne. Because, while a lot of things didn’t change from high-school, some things did. And he’d like to believe that he was one of them.

Raucous applause met the end of Duncan’s speech, a standing ovation all around. The break room was just as enthusiastic, clapping at the television screen like somehow Duncan could hear them anyway. Logan took a bite of his Szechwan chicken and listened halfheartedly as political pundits instantly popped up onscreen, repeating exactly what Duncan had just said and making thoroughly pointless comments about who they thought the big ticket of the party should be two years down the line…

“How goes battle against the Wicked Witch of the West?”

Logan started out of his intense scrutiny of Duncan waving to his supporters. Damn, and here he’d thought he was beyond getting caught up in old grievances like that. “Oh, _delightful_ ,” he answered Gary, voice dripping with sarcasm as he flipped open the file folder beside him and took another bite of chicken. With a dramatic little flourish of his hand, he shoved the folder over Gary’s way so that he could see the latest trick that psycho bitch had tried to pull.

Gary blinked and read the most recent document in what was fast becoming legendary around the office as The Most Messy Divorce Ever. “How does working full-time count as ‘child abuse’?” Gary wondered in stunned disbelief.

“The same way that wrenching your son’s arm out of its socket _doesn’t_ count as child abuse,” Logan retorted darkly, spearing another piece of chicken more than a little viciously with his chopstick.

“Judge Hopkins won’t buy that,” Gary reassured him.

“She bought that dear old Miranda’s psychotic born-again parents were fit guardians during the interim,” Logan pointed out.

“But no way will she give that bitch control over the kids,” Gary shook his head, reading over the report. “I mean, she’d have to be just as psycho…”

“Her logic does not always resemble earth logic.” Logan’s attention was back on the television set. Watching Duncan being adored by millions was preferable to thinking of what would happen if he lost this case. Which said something about how seriously he took it.

“Isn’t that the one you went you high-school with?” Gary asked curiously, looking down at his Caesar salad with a sigh before taking a reluctant bite.

“Sarah on your case about your cholesterol again?” Logan pointedly didn’t answer the question.

“Yeah,” Gary agreed, poking at a crouton wistfully. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“True.”

Gary turned to watch the TV in the break room as well. “So, what, he’s like governor or something?”

“Senator,” Logan corrected absentmindedly.

“Ha!” Gary exclaimed in triumph. “I thought he was the one you knew.”

“Oh, yes,” Logan agreed with a sigh. “Lucky me.”

Duncan was extending his arm now to his wife, wrapping the tiny blonde in his arms as the cameras flashed all around them. Logan didn’t think he’d ever seen a faker pair of smiles in all his life. Well, okay, maybe from his parents. But, still, he could not for the life of him understand why the fuck Duncan would want a life like that. After all, hadn’t they spent ninety percent of their teenage years dreaming about what it would be like to get away from all that? Or, at least, he had. In retrospect he wasn’t quite sure that Duncan hadn’t just been nodding along with whatever he’d said all those years. Duncan never had been much of one for making his opinions known. And now he was a fucking US Senator. Just great…

“His wife is _hot_ ,” Gary offered.

Logan shot him a glare.

“Well, she is!” Gary insisted.

“Oh, of _course_ she is,” Logan retorted sarcastically. “The perfect little ornament to dangle off his arm. Got to pick your women for their photogenic abilities and their ability to appeal to broad voting demographics, you know.”

Gary shook his head. “Damn, you’re even more cynical than usual today. Haven’t you ever heard of the Christmas spirit?”

“Ah, yes. The Spirit of the Holidays compels me to drag two kids and their abusive mother into court. Maybe this New Year’s they’ll just be left home alone rather than mysteriously falling down stairs. Can’t you just feel the tidings of comfort and joy?”

“Man, you need a vacation.”

Logan snorted. “I’m taking one just as soon as Judge Hopkins finally deems psycho-bitch a psycho-bitch.”

“So you’re thinking next June?”

“Au contraire! Hopkins has her own vacation starting this weekend. My bet is that we get a decision in the next few hours. Because heaven forbid we decide these things based upon the merits of the case. Oh no, Aspen calls.”

“You _definitely_ need a vacation.” Gary just shook his head in disbelief.

“Tell me about it,” Logan grumbled. On screen, Duncan was holding up his eldest (publicly acknowledged, at least) child Michael with pride, offering the kid up like some sort of sacrifice to the hordes of bloodthirsty reporters. Logan wondered whether _Duncan_ should be the one on trial for child abuse instead.

Gary seemed to sense another rant brewing. “Can we switch over to the game?” he called out.

Brian from accounting seemed to have no trouble with that, and Duncan’s smiling, beatific face was replaced by an auditorium of screaming fans. Given that the score was 48 to 7, there didn’t seem like much to scream about, but scream they did.

Logan let out a very long sigh. “Fuck, do I need a vacation,” he agreed, scooping up his papers reluctantly to head back in to court.

***

Veronica had long since been of the belief that if all roads in life led to one place, then there was probably a reason for it. And so many roads led to this one place.

She took a deep breath and decided to bypass knocking on the door bearing the proud label ‘Logan Echolls: Assistant District Attorney’. What was a little unannounced entry between old friends?

Her brow shot up at what she found inside. Booze at 3PM. “Of _course_ there’d be booze in your office at 3PM. It’s one of the fundamental laws of the universe, right?” she snapped. And then wished she hadn’t. After all, she needed him in a good mood if she was going to bring up Duncan and the phone call she’d received last night.

Logan started at the sight of her, lingering on the short black skirt of her business suit. Two could play at that game, of course. She took a moment to appraise him, as well. He’d bulked up some since high school, grown into the very fine body that had been given to him. He was still tall and lean, though. Muscled, but not overdone. He’d tossed his suit jacket over the back of his chair, and the arms of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, giving her a nice view of well-developed biceps. Damn.

“Well, isn’t this an unexpected visit?” he retorted blandly, raising his champagne glass to her.

Beside him, Gary was looking rather uncomfortable that he’d gotten himself caught in their little moment. He drained his glass with one last gulp and headed for the door. “I’ve got the sentencing hearing to prepare for.”

Logan just nodded to him, eyes never leaving Veronica. “And aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he asked lightly.

She fought back the blush from her cheeks. How he still managed to make her feel like she had butterflies in her stomach, even after all these years, was a mystery beyond her comprehension. “If I’d known you were throwing an office party, I’d have baked a cake.” She glanced at his glass once more.

He finished it off and set it down firmly on the desk beside him. “And if I’d known you were going to crash, I’d have brought more champagne,” he retorted, gesturing to the empty bottle.

She just shook her head in disbelief.

“Celebration,” he explained.

“Indeed?”

“As of two o’clock this afternoon, one Miranda Howard was officially ruled an unfit mother. Which means that, if those kids have any luck in this world at _all_ , dear neglectful Simon Howard should get full custody.” He raised his empty glass in salute. “Just in time for Christmas.”

She frowned. “Are you drunk?”

“A bit tipsy,” he confessed sheepishly. “It’s been a very long case…”

She sighed and took a seat on the corner of his desk. “We need to talk.”

His brow quirked as he noted that she was wearing a garter belt under that oh-so-short skirt. She realized belatedly that one of the straps was showing and tugged her skirt down primly. It was no matter, though. He was more than content to study her stockings. They looked more than a little bit like heaven on long legs crossed neatly where she’d situated herself on his desk.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do something else?” he asked breathily, closing in on her.

“This is important,” she insisted. “I—”

“Then why are you wearing exciting underwear?” he wanted to know.

She didn’t have an answer for that beyond the little yelp she let out when he caught her lips with his. “What are you—?” she swatted at him ineffectively.

“Mmm…” He breathed against her pulse point, taking in her scent.

“Anyone could walk in!” she protested.

“Let them,” he countered cheekily. And tackled her back onto his desk.

Any further objection she might have had was extinguished with the feel of his warm, hard body pressed against hers in every way. With a shaking gasp for air, she ran her fingers through his hair, yanking him down to her, catching his lower lip between her teeth and tasting deep of his mouth. After all, three weeks in Istanbul was a very long time, and one evening’s reunion was hardly enough for her to be sated with him. She was beginning to think that even a lifetime wouldn’t be enough; it was a theory she was looking forward to testing…

“God, Veronica…” he moaned against her when his hand slipped up under her skirt and discovered she wasn’t wearing panties.

“I thought I’d help you celebrate,” she offered coyly, fingers lightly trailing up his bicep.

“Fuck!” The exclamation, unfortunately, wasn’t due to anything delightful sexual, but rather the fact that he’d just manage to jab a certain sensitive portion of his anatomy into the nameplate on his desk. “Fuck!” he swore again for good measure.

Veronica sighed and sat up, nervously re-straightening the papers on his desk. “Guess we’re not eighteen anymore, huh?” she commented wryly.

“I knew there was a reason we’d nixed the public sex,” he agreed, collapsing onto the couch with a grunt.

She took a deep breath. “It’s just as well, I suppose. We _do_ need to talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going to your dad’s house for Christmas. It’s not a problem, really.”

“Actually, I was thinking that we could put off the drive until tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” she agreed, biting her lip and looking up at her from under her lashes coyly. “I missed you…”

He laughed and rose to catch her in his arms, placing a light kiss on her forehead. “You put off sex so that we could talk about when we’re going to have sex?”

“No.” She breathed deep of his scent, savoring the reassuring musk before soldiering on. “Do you remember that phone call I got last night?”

“Phone call?” He looked thoroughly bewildered.

“It woke you up? You made some Neanderthal grunting noises?”

“Homo _erectus_ , please.”

She glared at him. “Well, it was some nutjob with an altered voice issuing threats.”

“What?” His face paled, all joking suddenly completely gone. “Who?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” she admitted sheepishly. “Kyle—”

“Of course, _Kyle_ ,” he grumbled to himself.

She ignored his obligatory complaint about her friendly neighborhood LAPD detective who even she had to admit was perhaps a little bit too friendly when it came to her in particular. “—traced the tower signal back to Neptune—”

“Neptune?” This was just hitting all of Logan’s bad omen indicators at once.

“—but the number was untraceable. So,” she announced, “he gave me a tracker, in case—”

“The guy calls back, yeah yeah.” Logan frowned. “What did he say?”

Veronica took a deep breath. “‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Duncan Kane’,” she repeated.

He frowned at that for a moment and then let out an exaggerated sigh. “Gee, shnookums, either you’ve been having a torrid affair behind my back, or a certain caller _desperately_ needs a subscription to People magazine complete with celebrity gossip from, say, this _decade_.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” she smiled up at him, slipping her arms around the back of his neck. “I want to give my stalker a gift I know they’ll use this Christmas. But I just don’t know the address for the subscription.” She pulled him down to her for a quick kiss. Of course, ‘quick kisses’ with Logan had a way off stretching out into long make-out sessions. Fingers pressed against his scalp, tongues tangling, lips gasping for breath as they twined together intimately…

He finally broke off their kiss to nuzzle her throat. “Well, if you were hoping this was my sneaky way of telling you what _I_ want for Christmas, I’m afraid you’re sadly mistaken,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against hers. “I was busy being unconscious and coping feels off of my fiancée at the time.”

“A perv even in your sleep,” she shook her head in distaste. And then more hesitantly, “I want to look into this while we’re in Neptune.”

“And I get to be your spunky and irritating side-kick, just like old times?” he guessed with faux-enthusiasm.

“I’m going to try to stay away from Duncan.”

“Do what you think is necessary,” he added seriously.

“I’m going to try to stay away from Duncan,” she repeated firmly.

He smiled at her softly. “Have I mentioned lately how much I _adore_ you?”

She pretended to consider that for a moment. “Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Then I’ll just have to show you,” he concluded, slipping free of her embrace to snatch up his coat.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that…”

“Home?” He kissed her pulse point.

“Fuck!”

“Please.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Can you at least _try_ to be polite?”

“I’m always polite,” Logan insisted as he pulled up to the curb and put the Beemer in park.

“No, you’re not.” Veronica crossed her arms over her chest as she glanced at him and then at the backlit windows of her father and Andrea’s new house. “You’re cold.”

“Well, what do you want?” he demanded. “He’s just playing nice, hoping that you’ll finally come to your senses and dump me.”

“No, he’s not,” she assured him, hand reaching over to squeeze his knee. “My dad _likes_ you.”

He let out a disbelieving snort. “Right. Pull the other one. Or, here, pull _this_ one last time before I have to face the Inquisition.” He grabbed her hand and guided it toward his crotch.

She let out a frustrated little cry and pulled away from him, banging the car door shut behind her.

Wearily, he got out as well and followed her to the front door.

“What kind of father would object to his daughter marrying a well-respected lawyer?” Veronica continued to push the issue as they approached the doorstep. She ran her fingers lightly through her short hair, straightening it after the long drive. “It’s not like you’re still some fucked up high-school kid.”

“Oh, I will _always_ be ‘some fucked up high-school kid’,” Logan assured her. “And your father’s a fucking psychopath. I stay up nights worrying if I’m going to wake up locked in the basement of some warehouse for the rest of my life.”

She just shook her head. She really should’ve known by now that Logan was absolutely hopeless when it came to her dad. He _really_ knew how to hold a grudge when it came to these things. The sad thing was that her dad actually _did_ like Logan, or what little he ever saw of him. Something about Logan providing ten-plus years of loyalty, love, and support to Veronica. Unfortunately, Logan’s trust in return couldn’t be forced. And that didn’t look like it was going to happen, well…ever.

She supposed there were worse difficulties in life than having a husband and father who didn’t get along.

“Are you ready?” she moved to press the doorbell.

“Just let me compose myself.” He took a deep, over-dramatic breath.

She rang the bell while he was distracted being a sarcastic wise-ass. Hell, he deserved it.

“Honey, you’re here!” Keith was elated as he swung open the door and caught her in a fierce hug, hobbling a bit on one leg as he’d left his cane inside. A bullet to the leg in the line of work three years back had officially forced Keith into permanent deskwork, yet somehow he still managed to get around as much as ever. “Logan.” With his free hand, he gave Logan a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Mr. Mars,” Logan responded coolly.

Keith just grinned. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Keith?”

“Right. Keith.” Prisoners walking to the gallows sounded more enthusiastic.

“Oh, they’re here!”

Logan’s expression brightened at the new voice. “Andrea,” he greeted warmly, stepping into the house after Veronica and Keith and offering her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Mmm, you just get more handsome every time I see you,” she teased, returning his kiss and looping her arm through his. “If I were twenty years younger…” Andrea did look it, though. Although she’d just hit sixty that summer, she still kept her hair dyed neatly brown. Her features weren’t wrinkled enough yet that the hair color looked horribly out of place. Veronica was waiting, not quite kindly, to see what Andrea would do when that situation arose…

Logan, of course, just _loved_ the way Andrea pampered him. His greatest weakness had always been that he was a complete sucker for women who fawned over him. And, one of these days, Veronica was really going to have to get over the notion that every woman had evil intentions upon him and was just _waiting_ to crush his heart. But old habits died hard…

“I’d have to hire attack dogs to keep you off of him,” Veronica teased instead, settling onto the loveseat. She gave the seat beside her a pat, and Logan collapsed comfortably next to her.

“So, how was your trip?” Keith asked with a smile, sitting with Andrea on the other couch.

“Nothing to write home about,” Logan offered blandly.

“Can I get you two something to drink?” Andrea asked. “Coffee? Dinner should be ready in a few minutes…”

“I’m fine,” Veronica shook her head and smiled icily.

Logan gave her a look that she interpreted as ‘ _I’m_ the cold one?’ before declining Andrea’s offer as well.

“So…” Keith took note of Veronica’s hand, “let’s hear about this wedding.”

“Yes,” Andrea agreed, suddenly excited. “And, more importantly, let’s see the ring.”

Veronica held out her hand with a polite smile, while Andrea ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Andrea, really. She just could never really wrap her mind around her father’s new girlfriends. Although, technically, Andrea had been around for almost six years now. Not so new anymore.

“So, when are you getting married?” Leave it to Keith to stick to the point.

Logan suddenly felt nervous. Like Keith was sending him angry subliminal messages: ‘Leave my daughter at the altar, and I’ll mount your balls on my mantelpiece.’ Of course, Keith’s smile _seemed_ genuine. “We haven’t set a date yet,” he offered, tone precisely neutral. “Whenever we can find the time…”

“I’m invited though, right?” Keith demanded.

“Of course.” Veronica leaned in and gave him another quick peck. “We managed to negotiate that point, at least.” She turned to give Logan a pointed look.

He shrugged. No way in hell was he getting pre-nup, no matter how many times she tried to press the issue. If he was stupid enough to both lose her and do so in such a grandly assholic way that she actually wanted to snatch his money away from him in the process, then he would have more than deserved any nasty thing she could throw at him. It was the second to the last issue the two of them had to argue through before they got married. Although Veronica seemed to have almost given in on this one, which left them only with the date to bicker over…

Keith had the common sense to stay out of their argument. Nothing could interfere with the two of them when they head-butted on an issue; it was better just not to ask. “So, this is kind of sudden, isn’t it? I mean, getting married?”

“Yeah, wow,” Logan agreed sarcastically. “We only met each other…what? Twenty years ago?”

Veronica swatted his knee lightly. “We changed our minds,” she answered sweetly.

Keith nodded suspiciously. “Last time you two were here, you seemed pretty adamant…”

“Changed our minds,” Logan half-coughed in agreement, touting the party line.

And when the two of them conspired on something together, it was even _more_ impossible to get between them. “Any chance you’ve decided to compromise on the grandkids, too?” he asked evilly instead.

Logan’s cough turned into a fit.

Veronica thumped him on the back and smiled. “We’re still negotiating,” she answered brightly, just to piss him off.

A gleam entered Keith’s eyes that Logan was thoroughly convinced was psychotic. It was the same look he got every time he imagined his grandspawn. Oh yes, Keith had definitely entered the ‘make me a grandpa, or else’ stage of his life. It was terrifying.

“Dinner’s ready,” Andrea called from the kitchen, giving him ample opportunity to escape.

“I’ll help set up!” he offered in a rush, practically dashing from the living room.

Andrea smiled at him as he hid in the kitchen. “Keith mentioned grandchildren again, didn’t he?”

Logan gulped.

“I could smell the fear from here,” she teased.

He grinned and took the stack of plates from her, setting them out on the table. “My hero,” he faux-swooned.

“Actually, I’m afraid you’ve jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire,” she countered. “Keith wants to hear about children; I want to hear about the wedding.”

“Oh, joy…”

“You don’t have to sound so enthusiastic.”

“But my teachers always said my enthusiasm was my brightest quality!” he gasped.

She groaned and shook her head. “No escaping. Now, last I’d heard, marriage was _verboten_. So how did you propose?”

“Er…” he squirmed…

***

 _“Two-hundred fifty dollars a plate, and I’m allergic,” Logan muttered under his breath as he poked at the shrimp on his plate with the tip of his knife._

 _“There’s always the vegetarian option,” Veronica elbowed him inconspicuously under the table when he began playing with his food a bit too much._

 _He abruptly realized that, yes, half the office was here, and this was a charity function, and he probably shouldn’t be making more of an ass of himself than was absolutely necessary. “My bad, sweetie-pie,” he retorted overly-sarcastically. “Can you pass the salad back this way?”_

 _“Anything you want, honeybunches,” Veronica retorted, biting back her giggle at the ridiculous pet-name he’d just called her. She got at ‘aww, how sweet’ smile from the elderly (and undoubtedly very wealthy) woman beside her and fought the urge to snicker._

 _Next to her, Logan was having a much more difficult time not laughing. Giving her a conspiratorial little wink, he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Ah, young love…”_

 _Veronica just smirked, and a wicked gleam entered her eye. And then suddenly she let out an ecstatic cry, hands coming up to cover her mouth in surprise as – and he would swear to god on this – a genuine false tear escaped the corner of her eye._

 _“What’s—?” he began, but was cut off by yet another delighted scream._

 _“Yes! Yes!” She caught him in a sloppy hug with such force he nearly fell out of his chair. “Yes, Logan! Of course I’ll marry you!” Her screams echoed throughout the banquet hall, catching surprised glances from tables all around them._

 _“Huh?” he blinked, stunned._

 _“Oh my god! Yes!” she cried out at a pitch likely to induce howling fits in dogs._

 _“What on earth are you—?” he began, but then she was kissing him, hands on his cheeks to hold him in place. He glanced around suspiciously out of the corners of his eyes, and realized suddenly the trick she’d pulled on him. Because everyone at their table was smiling at them in absolute certainty that he’d just popped the question when he whispered in her ear before._

 _She pulled away from their kiss with an evil little grin that made him want to propose to her, anyway. And instantly she was accepting the excited congratulations of the old romantic sitting next to her._

 _“Way to go, man,” Gary nudged him in the shoulder._

 _Logan paused, shrugged, and smiled. “She’s just made me the happiest man alive,” he smarmed._

 _The wicked gleam in Veronica’s eye let him know all too well that he’d be paying for that remark tonight. Oh goody…_

***

“Um…” Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously. “It was exactly what she wanted.”

Andrea smiled wistfully and linked her arm through his, leading him into the dining room. “You’ll have to tell me all about it…”

He gulped.

“And the ring… The ring is just _gorgeous_.”

“Veronica picked out the ring,” he felt obliged to give credit where credit was due.

“I always knew she was a smart girl,” Andrea replied with a twinkle in her eye.

Logan was pretty sure he’d just been affectionately insulted. And that the inevitable grilling on how ‘he’ had proposed was about to ensue. Fortunately, Andrea was distracted when the dog made a play for the tablecloth. Chaos and scrambling ensued, and finally everything was sorted out again, and they sat down to eat. Logan passed a piece of chicken to Scout under the table; it was a treat well-deserved…

***

“‘…and, with it, comes the promise of a brighter tomorrow!’”

The audience on TV was applauding again. Logan wondered if they ever did anything else.

“You know, for a guy who’s not technically in office yet, he’s awfully optimistic,” he commented darkly, taking a sip of his wine.

“You don’t agree?” In the armchair across the living room, Keith was sipping at his wine too. And, even while wearing sweats and slippers, he still managed to look ominous while doing so, like Logan’s answer was a matter of life or death. It was kind of impressive.

Logan just shrugged. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he countered neatly.

“You don’t trust him?” It was disturbing that Keith could still send him into a panic with that smile. It wasn’t like Keith could even take him physically any more, what with his injured leg and all. But old habits were hard to break.

“Duncan has plenty of good points. Trustworthiness isn’t exactly one of them,” he answered perfectly calmly. It had been a while since his last police interrogation. Oh, goodie…

“I voted for him.” Keith shrugged, perfect ‘so you think I’m a patsy, then?’ expression in play.

Logan took a deep gulp of his wine. “So did I,” he retorted. “The lesser of all evils isn’t necessarily good.”

Keith seemed to let it drop at that, and Logan was grateful when the news switched to the annual Christmas parade. He couldn’t _think_ of any way that Keith could drill him about that. Unless Keith wanted to go. Oh, dear gods, _please_ let Keith not want to go…

“What’s Veronica up to?” Keith gestured down the hall to the guest bedroom instead, where Veronica had snuck away shortly after dinner.

“Veronica?” He kind of loved how he could be sarcastic and sound perfectly innocent at the same time. “Just making a few calls.”

“About?”

Logan looked to Andrea for help, but she was sewing quietly in the corner, looking almost grandmotherly with her hair tied back and one of the quilts she’d made on her lap. It was unnerving at times to think of Veronica’s parents as _old_. Hell, when he’d been a kid, he’d never imagined he would actually live to see age thirty…

“She _has_ told you about the Duncan thing, right?” Keith continued to press.

Logan was surprised at that. Sure, she’d told _him_ , but he hadn’t known she’d told her dad as well. It seemed she really had turned over a new leaf with no longer keeping secrets from her loved ones… “The anonymous phone call?” he clarified. “Of course.”

“She says she’s going to investigate,” Keith frowned at the idea.

Logan shrugged. “It’s what she does.”

“You’re watching her back, right?” he demanded.

“If she asks me to,” Logan agreed. He got a dark look in response. “Trust me. If I butted my head in and tried to ‘protect’ her when I wasn’t asked? She would have dumped me years ago.” He realized, in retrospect, that Keith would probably prefer the latter option. He wasn’t exactly helping his own case. “She’s a big girl now.” And he just couldn’t stop digging his own grave…

Keith just nodded grimly in response and turned back to the television. “So, what do you think about hitting the Christmas parade this year?”

Logan was thoroughly tempted to shoot himself then and there. Inconspicuously, Andrea snuck up on him and refilled his wine glass. She gave him an amused little smile and rolled her eyes at Keith, like he was just being cute or something. He could have kissed her right then.

***

“I thought I told you to stay out of Neptune!”

It was kind of impressive for an altered voice to sound this angry, but angry it was. “No,” Veronica corrected calmly, as Logan scrambled at the bedside table for the tracer, “you told me to stay away from _Duncan_.”

“Same difference!”

Ah good, the voice wanted to argue. Veronica needed to buy time for the tracer to do its magic and, given that Logan had just gotten the thing plugged into her phone just now, a talkative late night caller was just what she needed.

“C’mon, where’s your Christmas spirit?” Veronica asked perkily. “I’m not allowed to visit family during the joyous holiday season just because someone with some basic scrambling equipment is obsessed with my love-life from back in high-school?”

“Don’t underestimate me,” the voice insisted.

“And don’t underestimate _me_ ,” Veronica shot back.

Logan gave her a little nod and a thumb’s up, indicating that they’d tracked their signal source. However, as he read the screen before him his face went grim.

“I know where your family lives,” the caller informed her. And then hung up.

Veronica frowned, both at the message and at Logan’s expression. “What?” she asked, clicking her phone shut.

Logan held up the display screen for her to see. And there, in bright green letters, was an address she knew all too well.

“Guess it’s probably not one of Duncan’s political opponents, huh?” Logan tried for humor.

Veronica shook her head slowly, staring at the address of the Kane Mansion on the display screen. “Guess not…”

“Guess we’re also not going to finish what we started tonight, either?” He tried again. Persistent boy.

And it really hadn’t helped their efficiency that Logan had had his head between her thighs when the call came. Especially since the subsequent scrambling had resulted in them ending up on the wrong sides of the bed, and Logan having to toss all the surveillance equipment at her while she struggled to answer the phone.

“The caller’s motivations are clear,” she teased. “They’re trying to ruin your sex life…” She set the phone and tracer down on his nightstand and crawled over him to deliver a gentle kiss to his lips.

He shook his head with exasperation. “Now, it’s personal,” he retorted, doing a decent impersonation of a bad action star. Which, given his father, had all sorts of implications that she really didn’t want to think about…

“I have to go to the Kanes’ tomorrow,” she confessed softly, still looking down at him.

He gulped and nodded slowly.

“I love you,” she insisted, trying to reassure him. There were some insecurities and doubts that didn’t need to be spoken aloud between them.

“I know. But I can’t help but feel…” He trailed off helplessly.

“I get it,” she agreed, leaning in to kiss him again. “But you don’t have anything to worry about. Really.”

“I know,” he repeated.

And he really did know, which was the sad part. A very long time ago he’d caught Veronica hanging around with Duncan, and he’d done nothing because he hadn’t wanted to be annoyingly jealous, and within a month she’d dumped him and taken up with his best friend instead. But that had been so long ago, and now he _knew_ things were different between them, better, but the fear just wouldn’t go away. That she’d slip between his fingers once more and leave him alone…

“I’ve been thinking,” he began nervously, “that maybe now is a good time.”

She gave him a confused look for a second before she realized. “To get married?”

He nodded. “It meets all our specifications. Your dad’s already here…”

“And your sister _isn’t_ here,” she smiled.

He grinned back at her. He’d been particularly fond of that particular provision he’d made; the last thing they needed was a bawling Trina turning their wedding into a media circus. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re trying to avoid an extra visit with my dad,” she accused.

“But of course,” he confessed smoothly.

She sighed, considering his proposal more seriously. Couldn’t think of any objections. “Who on earth gets married right before Christmas?” she wondered.

“We do. Obviously.”

She laughed at that and kissed him again. “You’ll make the arrangements?”

“Just as long as _you’re_ the one who tells your dad,” he countered.

“Agreed.”

“Good.”

“Now, I believe you were about to remind me why I want to marry you in the first place?” she teased.

He gave her a mischievous smirk. “Still?”

“I need _something_ to get me through my day tomorrow…” And she got it, indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

Clarence Wiedman didn’t even have the decency to look surprised that an old acquaintance he’d seen only three times in the last decade had snuck into his office and sat primly in his chair.

“Awaiting Lord Vader’s commands?” Veronica asked lightly, nonetheless.

His brow furrowed slightly. “I thought we’d tightened visitor security.”

“Oh, come on. I just _had_ to.” She grinned and gestured to the desk around her. “For old time’s sake.”

He gave her that small, secretive smile of his and tossed his hat on the hook by the door, milling about his office like this was an every day occurrence. “Have you reconsidered my offer, then?”

And Veronica was pretty sure he was teasing her, even though his face was as unreadable as always. “I’m afraid I’ll still have to pass. I’m getting married.”

He didn’t seem surprised by that news, just nodded. It was all the confirmation she’d needed that he was still keeping tabs on her. _Just in case._

“My fiancé might object if I just dropped everything to run off and start a PI agency with my old arch-nemesis,” she retorted wryly.

“You’re more than welcome to invite Mr. Echolls in as a third partner,” he offered magnanimously, checking over the surveillance feeds of the Kane Software headquarters.

“Tempting, but I already have a job. And this wasn’t the repayment I wanted for that ‘favor’.”

“I figured you were here on business.” Seemingly unconcerned that she still occupied his chair, he sat across the desk from her, only half paying attention to her as he flipped through a manila file folder.

Closer now, Veronica could see the beginnings of grey at the edge of his hair. Clarence Wiedman was mortal; who knew? “It seems,” she began, folding her hands on the desk before her, “that someone else has taken an interest in the subject of our last meeting.”

 _That_ got his full attention. “Oh?”

“Given that you have a vested interest in my silence about any and all… _unfortunate incidents_ ,” Veronica used his own term when he’d approached her last year before Duncan’s campaign had begun and asked her, with only a hint of his usual menace, what dark secrets Duncan was keeping in his closet that might adversely affect the Kane campaign, “as well as your propensity to use voice-altering devices and untraceable phones, you’re currently suspect number one.”

His raised his eyebrows. “Suspect number one for what?”

“Someone’s taken to making threatening telephone calls.” She pulled the tracer from her bag and brandished it proudly before handing it over to him. “‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Duncan Kane’ and ‘I thought I told you to stay out of Neptune’, respectively.”

Clarence frowned at the display. “These came from the Kane household?”

“Indeed.”

“And you suspect me?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “Even if someone _was_ nervous I’d talk, I would hope that you know me well enough by now to know that threats would only make me _more_ likely to go public.”

His eyes seemed to twinkle with mirth at that for a moment, before he considered. “There was a small gathering at the Kanes’ last night. Forty-five guests were on the premises.”

“And the phones?”

“I… _acquired_ a certain number for those associated with the campaign. Just a security precaution.”

“Of course,” Veronica agreed smoothly. “So I’ve got forty-five suspects? ‘Cause I was hoping for, oh let’s say, _one_.”

He nodded, as concerned about this matter as she was. Not only did it bode ill that someone close to Duncan was making threats – if something like that got out, it certainly wouldn’t help his public image – but Clarence never liked it when anything happened behind his back. Especially when geared toward an old friend, although that term had never been _quite_ right for describing their relationship. The mutual respect of two individuals who were both very good at what they did. For him, that probably _was_ the closest thing to a friend that he knew…

“MacKenzie was in charge of the security last night,” he finally told her. “The surveillance tapes should be able to narrow down who was still on the premises at eleven forty-five.”

“Excellent.” Veronica smiled. “This looks like the re-beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

***

Making an appointment with the Justice of the Peace had been a piece of cake. Veronica’s comment that no one got married at Christmas was apparently spot on, because he’d set the date for that Friday at 2PM without a hitch. It must have had something to do with not adding even _more_ stress to the holiday season by having a wedding on top of everything. Fortunately the one thing the two of them _had_ agreed on right off the bat was no big weddings. It made everything so much easier…

But Logan’s _other_ onerous task of the day made finally getting married seem like a breeze in comparison. He’d avoided it all morning by actually agreeing to go shopping with Andrea. Keith had just shaken his head when Logan had volunteered to go, the message of ‘your funeral’ more than clear. Keith had underestimated Logan, as usual. Although even Logan had wondered if he’d taken on a bit more than he could chew during Shoe Shopping Take _Three_. At least he’d been able to do his Christmas shopping while he was at it. Not that he had an overly long list.

Unfortunately, now he had nothing else to do, bringing his day of happy procrastination to an end. Whatever Veronica was doing at the Kanes’ was taking all fucking day, leaving him to fend for himself against her family.

It was something he’d do gladly, if it meant that he never had to deal with _his_ family again…

With a reluctant sigh, he picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d more than reluctantly typed in at the very bottom of his phone’s address book. Strictly for legal purposes, of course.

One ring, two, and then a chipper voice at the other end.

“This is Logan Echolls,” he announced nervously. Got the expected surprise in response. “No, no legal matters this time…” Increased curiosity. “I need to meet.”

After all, there were some demons he just needed to face, no matter how long he’d managed to avoid them…

***

“Veronica!”

“Mac?” Veronica caught her high-school friend in a surprised hug. Behind them, Clarence Wiedman watched their reunion with calculated disinterest. “You work in security?” Veronica asked in disbelief.

“You honestly expected me to give up the covert lifestyle?” Mac retorted with a grin, looking her up and down. “You got your hair cut. It’s cute.”

Veronica fingered she’d short bob she’d favored for the last few years. She was convinced it made her look horribly elfin, but it kept her hair out of her way nicely, especially when photographing in the wind and sand. Plus, Logan’s tongue had been practically profound the first time he saw it; remembering _that_ afternoon still sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. “Thanks,” she grinned. “And, wow. You look… _professional_.”

Mac did, too. Gone was the outsider look of years past. Mac’s hair, no longer dyed, was tied at the back of her head in a neat bun, and she wore a gray skirt-suit formal enough that it would even meet Clarence Wiedman’s standards of employee wardrobe.

“You also look,” Mac eyed Veronica’s ring with that curiosity-killed-the-cat smile, “to be moving up in the world…”

“As I recall, Cynthia, you were the one who prepared the last report on Echolls,” Clarence spoke up, obviously tiring of the catch-up talk. “We need to look over the surveillance tapes of the Kane party last night.” All business, that one.

Veronica mouthed ‘Cynthia?’, and Mac just shrugged. Veronica supposed that childhood nicknames just didn’t have the staying power they used to.

“Just a sec.” Mac turned to her filing cabinet and opened the top drawer. She thumbed through it and asked over her shoulder, “How are you tied up with the Kane tapes?”

“Just your usual,” Veronica answered breezily. “Death threats and sordid affairs.”

“I should have known,” Mac agreed wryly, pulling three disks from the drawer. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Cynthia.” Clarence checked the timestamps. “Everything before eleven forty-five.” He held up two disks.

“If I had a guest list, I could take one…” Veronica offered.

“Mmm,” Mac cut in, “I can watch with you. Give us a chance to catch up.”

Clarence raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have work?”

Mac pointed to the clock. “Lunch break? Labor laws?”

He nodded and shrugged. “Thank you for your assistance,” and retreated into the room next door, Veronica supposed to find another screen to watch on.

Mac popped their disk into the player, and the festive lights of the Kane Estate appeared onscreen.

“We need a list of everyone who was still there at eleven forty-five,” Veronica explained.

“Which means we need a list of everyone who left beforehand,” Mac concluded.

“Joy to the world…”

Mac laughed and offered Veronica the seat across from her. “So,” she began evilly, “it ended up being Logan Echolls after all?”

Veronica couldn’t help but blush slightly at Mac’s mischievous grin. “Oh yeah…”

***

An hour and a half later, they had sixteen guests who were still on the Kane premises at eleven forty-five. Clarence had whittled that list down to six whom he, personally, had leant untraceable phones for various security reasons.

Veronica stared at the list before her and frowned:

 _Simon Greenblatt  
John Enbom  
Terry Enbom  
Kevin Sumpter  
Lucas Becker  
Anne Crawford_

“Anyone you recognize?” Clarence asked.

“I went to school with John and Luke,” Veronica bit her lip thoughtfully. “But I never really talked to John. And Luke and I were… _friends_.” Okay, so the term didn’t quite fit, but she didn’t really think that Luke would pull something like this on her. Although maybe saving his hide over a decade ago didn’t really mean anything… “Who are the others?”

“Mr. Greenblatt represents certain special interest groups that sponsored Mr. Kane’s candidacy,” Clarence answered matter-of-factly. “Mrs. Enbom met her husband at Yale. She’s a distant cousin of the Vanderbilts.”

“Why did _they_ need secure phones?” Veronica wondered.

“They approached me with concerns surrounding their credit security. I was more than happy to accommodate such generous contributors to ‘Kane for Senate’,” he answered. “Mr. Sumpter is Mr. Kane’s speechwriter. They met at Stanford. Mr. Becker was one of the top campaign advisors—”

Veronica snickered.

“—and Ms. Crawford is, of course, Mr. Kane’s campaign manager,” Clarence concluded, like he hadn’t even heard her.

Veronica sighed. She really couldn’t imagine why any of those people would want to crank call her. Then again, she couldn’t imagine why anyone _period_ would be doing this. She leaned in and, with precise little letters, added two more names to the list:

 _Duncan Kane  
Denise Kane_

“Why not add Michael and Lilly to the list while you’re at it?” Clarence retorted wryly.

Veronica cast him an annoyed look. “Threatening phone calls from the toddlers? Wow, the latest generation of Kanes is getting into the family business _young_.”

He gave her that half-smile in response and handed her the list, complete with numbers. “I’ll monitor their phones.”

“And I’ll give you a holler just as soon as I do something to provoke another angry midnight rant.” Veronica agreed, rising from her seat. An uncomfortable pause and then, “Thanks for helping me with this.”

“It’s always advisable to maintain friendly business contacts when you’re in security,” Clarence insisted.

Veronica gave him a look that said ‘bullshit’. “Of course,” she agreed out loud.

***

Veronica arrived home to find out that her father and soon-to-be husband had deteriorated into eight-year-olds.

“The boulder’s going to fall off the catapult and land on his head,” Logan insisted, giggling in a rather adorably boyish way on the couch.

“No, no,” Keith shook his head, grinning for ear to ear. “It’s going to shoot off, bounce off of the telephone lines, and _then_ come back and land on his head.”

A series of bizarre sound effects and wacky music sounded from the TV, and the two men burst out into hysterics once more. Scout howled along with them, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Veronica shook her head and went to find Andrea in the kitchen. “Roadrunner cartoons?”

Andrea’s look said ‘pity me’ only too well. “They’ve been at it for _hours_.” She shuddered.

“They do know that they’re all the exact same cartoon, right?” Veronica asked, perplexed.

“ _Men_!”

It was the only answer possible.

With a self-sacrificing sigh, she returned to the living room, managed to work Scout off of Logan’s thigh and onto the floor, and settled herself into Logan’s waiting arms. “How was your day?”

“Great. And you’re just in time. He’s got a rocket with _handlebars_ on it!” Logan watched the screen gleefully.

“When _doesn’t_ he have a rocket with handlebars on it?” Veronica wondered.

They both ignored her.

“It’s going to explode as soon as he turns in on,” Keith predicted.

“No, it’s going to run him over the edge of the cliff,” Logan insisted.

The rocket exploded.

“I bow to the zen master,” Logan conceded.

Keith just grinned, took another sip of his soda, and patted Scout on the head where the dog had now decided that _Keith’s_ thigh was the most fascinating thigh around.

Veronica sighed. “This is what I’m marrying into?” she teased, offering Logan a quick peck on the lips. It was a testament to the awesome power of cartoons that he didn’t even seem uncomfortable having her sitting on his lap while Keith was within arm-reach of his gun.

“A class act all the way, babe,” he retorted, pressing his forehead to hers affectionately.

“Lucky me…”

“So,” he stole another quick kiss, “did you get everything sorted out?”

“I’m still on the case.” She suddenly felt weary and leaned against his chest, suddenly grateful that he made such an excellent pillow. “Looks like we’ve got eight suspects.” She yawned and curled deeper into him.

“Busy day, then?” he murmured against her hair.

“Oh yeah… Did you call—?”

“Two on Friday,” he whispered. “And, remember, you’ve got to tell your dad.”

Keith was, meanwhile, distracted by a whoop of delight when he saw the next cartoon’s title. “This is the one with the ACME Leg Muscle Vitamins!” he announced excitedly.

“Excellent!” Logan rubbed his hands together.

“Oh, joy,” Veronica grumbled. Ah well, there were worse ways to fall asleep…


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you all right?”

Logan, sharp and snarky, meant one of two things: Either he was genuinely happy, or he was horribly _un_ happy and trying to cover for it. Given how he’d become increasingly reserved as they’d gotten ready for bed, Veronica was betting on the latter.

“Fine.” He seemed to be having more difficulty than usual unfastening the buttons of his shirt and, with a sigh, she stepped in to help him. “I can do it myself,” he snapped, brushing her away.

She frowned. Oh, yeah. This was _definitely_ something big… “You can tell me about it, you know,” she told him gently.

“And here comes Psych 101, rearing its ugly head once more,” he glared at her.

Ah. He was in one of _those_ moods. The ones where all kindness automatically equated with pity. Those were just so much fun. “Right. Just forget I asked,” she snapped right back.

“Because heaven forbid I _ever_ get to keep anything to myself. Oh no, _everything_ is Veronica Mars’ business.” He stormed past her and into the bathroom.

“Great!” she shouted after him. “Just great! Let’s not deal with our problems. Oh no, let’s just yell at each other at the tops of our lungs. That’s so mature.”

“But, honey,” he retorted wickedly, “I thought it would appeal to your ghetto roots.”

She froze and just stared at him.

And, as soon as he realized what he’d said, he had the decency to look ashamed of himself. “Veronica,” he chased after her apologetically, “I didn’t mean—”

“Right.” She flung open the door, jaw set. “Have a nice evening.” And slammed it shut behind her.

“Fuck,” Logan swore, collapsing on the bed.

***

“You okay, honey?”

Fuck. The last thing Veronica wanted to deal with right then was her dad. She fumbled through her purse even faster, hunting for her keys.

Keith studied her, cup halfway to his mouth. “I could hear you two shouting. You okay?” he repeated.

“Oh, just peachy,” she retorted bitterly, finally triumphantly catching her keys.

“You going out?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you going?”

“For a drive.”

“Mind if your old man tags along?”

Veronica stiffened for a second, wanting very much to say no. But some part of her that was softer than she ever liked to admit just wished that her dad could make everything better. That was the part that won out. “Okay,” she agreed quietly.

He grabbed his coat and took her keys from her – probably a good idea that she didn’t drive while she was this agitated anyway – and she sat uncomfortably in the passenger seat as he drove them aimlessly about Neptune.

“Remember when we used to do this when you were a kid?” Keith asked lightly. “Your mom, too. We’d all get in the car and drive around town and look at all the Christmas lights.”

She sniffed slightly. “Yeah.” Then, “Logan and I had a fight.”

“So I heard,” he countered mildly. “A bad one?”

She shrugged. “We’re always arguing about something…”

“Arguing is an entirely different thing from fighting,” Keith informed her. “You two seem to enjoy the arguing.”

She smiled slightly at that. “Yeah,” she agreed wistfully.

“So what did you fight about?”

“Oh,” Veronica shook her head, “I don’t even know. Something has him stressed out, and he was feeling cranky and didn’t want to tell me what it was, and then when I got pissed, out came the classist remarks.”

“He do that a lot?”

“Only when he’s tired and scared,” Veronica shivered slightly and buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “Sometimes when I’ve hit him something just as bad. Comments about his dad will usually do it.”

“You two always did know how to push each other’s buttons,” Keith commented blandly.

She’d sort of expected more of a raging invective against Logan. “We try not to. Really, we do. But, sometimes…” She brushed at her cheek with one hand. “We try to be better. Than we were, I mean. Especially him. But, then, when we’re at our worst, it all comes out again and…”

“And?”

“And sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth trying. The two of us, I mean,” she clarified, her voice sounding thoroughly defeated to her own ears. “There’s just so much…” She trailed off helplessly.

“You love him?”

“Yeah…” she agreed softly. “But it’s so much easier when he’s… _him_ , you know? It’s hard whenever he regresses like this. And, look at me! I’m not much better. My first instinct was to run for it…”

“I’m sure you both need time to cool down,” he pointed out practically.

She nodded slowly. “But it’s not like that.”

“What is it like, then?”

“Every time things get tough, I just run out. And I _know_ that he’s back at home, wondering if I’m even going to come back to him, but it’s like I can’t stop myself.” Her fingernails were leaving little crescent marks in the palms of her hands, she was clutching them so tightly. Forcibly, she made them relax.

Keith pretended like he didn’t even notice. “It’s Christmas. And you’ve been receiving threats. You’re tired and stressed…”

“And he is too.” Veronica nodded. “I know. It doesn’t make me any less scared.”

He turned the Beemer onto Columbia, and for a few moments they just watched the festive displays as they whizzed by. “What are you scared of?” he finally asked, voice calm and soothing.

“I’m just…” She let out a raw laugh. “More nervous about the wedding than I have been about anything in my life.”

“Do you really want to get married?”

Veronica twisted her ring nervously between her fingers.

“Well?” Keith asked after she had paused to think about it for what he deemed was too long.

“Very much,” she said, a hint of hesitancy in her voice. “But I can’t help but worry…”

“Worry about what?” Keith shook his head, his voice light and easy and comforting, quickly dispelling any ghosts that might have formed in her mind.

She bit her lip and glanced down at the ring on her hand. For a moment she found herself almost captivated by the glint of the streetlights on gemstone, but then she came back to reality. And, really, she was old enough now that this should be a reality she could face. “That we’ll turn out like you and mom,” she answered in a voice barely above a whisper.

Keith froze at that, a concerned look upon his face. “Veronica, honey…”

“I know, I know,” she shook her head. “It’s silly, but—”

“It’s not silly,” he assured her.

She looked up at him, surprised at that.

“You’ll never know how much I agonized over that.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He stared straight ahead at the road, an anxious look on his face, confessing something painful for any parent to have to admit. “I feel like I should have worked harder. That you deserved to grow up seeing what a happy marriage was like.”

“Dad, it’s not your—”

“Will you let me finish?” he requested with a bit of that demanding tone he’d always used with her when she was younger.

She still found herself helpless to do anything but obey, even after all these years.

“I still feel like I failed you in that,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t make any difference with you and Logan. You are two completely different people.”

She took a deep breath. “He’s not exactly the nicest guy in the world,” she pointed out. And it was hard to do so, because she loved him, but that didn’t blind her to his faults. “He tries, but… I don’t think he’ll ever be able to completely overcome his past. I don’t think anyone can.”

“Do you want him to?” Keith inquired.

“I want him to be happy. I want him to be all right.” That part, at least, she was sure of.

“I think,” he said in a voice that all too clearly indicated ‘correct me if I’m wrong’, “that he feels the same way about you. And, to be perfectly honest, Veronica, if he was the nicest guy in the world, he wouldn’t stand a _chance_ against you.” He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

Slowly, she nodded her head, having gone through these sorts of arguments dozens of times in her head.

“Have you told Logan about your…concerns?” he ventured softly.

She rolled her eyes at that. “Given my outspoken belief that marriage is an institution for people who don’t love each other anymore? I pretty much had to reassure him that my proposal wasn’t a covert way of breaking up with him.”

Keith laughed at that, and it was good to know that there was one other person out there who got her admittedly strange relationship with Logan.

“I feel like we’ve gone over our issues until we can’t see straight anymore,” she concluded.

“And you’re not reassured?”

“That his experiences are even worse than mine?”

“That the two of you can talk about this sort of thing,” he corrected.

She was silent for a moment. “You and mom didn’t talk?”

He let out a harsh laugh. “More like shouted.”

“Logan and I do our fair share of that, too,” she grimaced.

“But, no,” he answered her earlier question. “By the end…we didn’t talk about any of the important things.”

“Then why did you stay together?” she asked curiously.

“Honestly?” He sighed. “On my part, it was mostly because of you. Lianne loved you very much – no matter what you think,” he cut off her objections. “She loved you, and she made you happy.”

“You made me happy, too.”

“I know that now.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “But it was a complicated time, all around.”

“And what if things get ‘complicated’ between me and Logan?” she demanded.

He let out a long, tired breath. “I wish I could promise you that the two of you will live happily ever after. But you’ve never taken it well when your old man has tried to lie to you.”

They both smiled at that.

“All I can tell you is that you and Logan aren’t me and Lianne.”

She nodded carefully.

“For one thing, Logan’s much taller.” He gave her that idiotic grin of his that had been consistently able to send her into fits of giggles for as long as she could remember.

“Taller than mom? Or you?” she retorted wickedly.

“Both,” he admitted with a vigorous nod. “Possibly put together.”

And she did laugh at that before impulsively leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Love you too, kiddo,” he chuckled, eyes never leaving the road.

She smiled and pulled away, brushing away the wetness on her cheeks roughly while he pretended not to see. “We were thinking of having the wedding Friday,” she informed him.

“Excellent. It’ll give me an excuse to take a three-day weekend.”

She just swatted at his arm playfully.

The idiotic grin on his face grew wider. “What?” he demanded with faux-innocence.

“You’re hopeless,” she announced before their little father-daughter bonding moment was interrupted by her phone ringing. She swore in realization that she hadn’t brought the tracker with her, and Keith’s expression immediately hardened.

A deep breath, and she picked up. “Wow. All this stalking, just for little old me?” she asked flirtatiously into the phone.

“You think this is funny, bitch?” the voice demanded. “I know you were at Kane Software today.”

Veronica let out a mock-surprise gasp. “So do I! We should really get together and talk some evening. I can just _tell_ that you’re my soulmate.”

“If you don’t stay away,” the voice hissed, “your cripple of a father will be the first to suffer.”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed, and the line went dead.

“Logan or stalker?” Keith asked lightly, heading back home.

“You couldn’t tell?” she demanded.

“You’d be surprised just how difficult it is, at times,” he teased.

“They threatened you.” She watched the lights spin by.

He snorted. “I carry a gun. And am not in the least intimidated by cowards who make crank calls.”

That _was_ reassuring. “Clarence will have traced that. I should have our guy by tomorrow.” She sighed. “For now, I am owed one _spectacular_ apology…”

Keith grinned. “Home, it is.”

***

“Are you awake?” Veronica asked softly as she slipped into the bedroom. The lights were off, but she could make out the strong outline of Logan’s back in the bed.

He stirred and turned to look at her. “I thought I’d use the same remedy that’s been used to treat cranky kindergarteners for ages, and enjoy naptime,” he retorted. Then, more softly, “I’m so sorry…”

“I know.” She sat on the bed beside him, still clothed, and brushed a kiss across his cheek.

He let out a deep breath and looked up at her with dark eyes. “It’s just… I have to do something tomorrow, and I know you’re not going to like it, but I _need_ to do it alone, all right?”

Her fingers trailed through his hair. “Okay.”

“I-I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t mean what I said, Veronica…”

“I know. I forgive you.” She kissed him again, and this time his lips caught hers and lingered, tasting her almost cautiously, as if afraid she’d leave him for good. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m just sorry that it’s not always as easy as we want it to be.”

“But it wouldn’t be half as much fun if it was.” His eyes twinkled.

“True,” she laughed, giving him a final quick kiss before she got up to change into her pajamas.

“I love you,” he whispered fervently.

“I love you, too.”

***

“I’d say this is an unexpected visit, but I don’t think even I could live with myself for an understatement like that.”

Alas, the next day had come _far_ too fast for Logan’s taste. His expression showed how clearly unamused he was as he stared at his father across the table in the prison visiting room. “Merry Christmas, dad.”

Aaron feigned shock. “My own son is finally filled with the spirit of holiday giving? That only took a decade.”

Logan just glared.

“So why are you here?” Aaron asked more softly after an uncomfortable pause.

Logan didn’t answer, watching his fingers tap on the desk before him instead.

“Logan?” There seemed to be a bit of concern there. And damned if it didn’t sound almost genuine.

“Just give me a minute,” Logan’s sarcasm came out more cold than anything else. “I’m trying not to act more like a drama queen than I did by coming here in the first place.”

“I hear they make an _excellent_ pill for that.”

“Knock it off,” Logan retorted darkly.

Aaron spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. “Knock what off?”

“Trying to be charming,” Logan bit out.

“And how should I be?” Aaron wondered.

“Just…quiet.” He could hear the weariness in his own voice.

Miraculously, the old man shut up. Maybe it really was the time of giving, after all. “How are you?” Now that wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

“Working my way towards time off for good behavior,” Aaron commented breezily. “You? Trina?”

“Trina’s fine.” That question was easier to answer. “Still in New York.”

Aaron nodded slowly. “You?” he repeated.

Logan shrugged.

“It’s…good to see you.” And that _was_ genuine. Whether that was more or less disturbing was up for grabs.

He nodded slowly. “I’m getting married,” he offered cautiously.

A momentary flash of surprise covered so well that Logan knew it couldn’t be a trick. “To Veronica, I’m assuming? Last I heard…”

“To Veronica,” Logan agreed.

“Well, that will make family get-togethers nice and awkward.”

Logan let out a little exclamation of disgust and rose from his seat. “I don’t even know why I bothered to come here.” He turned away and headed for the door.

“Logan, wait!” Aaron had stopped him just as his hand had touched the knob. Christ, they really were a family of horrible hams, weren’t they?

He turned back to study his father carefully. Aaron was graying around the edges now, looking old for the first time ever, at least to Logan’s eyes. And, for a moment, he could see his dad as a pathetic, fucked-up old man, and not the psychotic master manipulator who had nearly ruined his life. For a moment.

“Congratulations,” Aaron offered with that horribly ingratiating smile. “I don’t suppose I’m getting out for the wedding?”

“You’re not invited.”

“Figures.”

“Yeah, funny, isn’t it? You murder one girlfriend, and then you don’t even get invited to your own son’s wedding.” Logan pretended to consider for a moment. “Strictly as a security measure, of course.”

“Of course,” Aaron agreed, and damn him for making a _joke_ out of this.

Logan took a deep breath, furious with Aaron and with himself for letting Aaron get to him like this. “I had to tell you,” he informed his dad, emphasizing the obligation as well as the complete lack of desire. “It seems that, no matter how hard I try, denying that you exist doesn’t actually make you go away…”

“We should really have these family get-togethers more often,” Aaron said pleasantly.

“Yeah, well, there’s that whole problem wherein I hate you.”

 _That_ blow seemed to have struck. Something deep in Aaron’s eyes flickered in almost-pain. And Logan figured that, even if he’d made it his life’s mission, he’d never be able to fully figure out the deranged mind of his own dad. Which just made figuring out how much _he_ had been screwed up in reflected glory that much harder.

“You’re not going to win, you know,” Logan said, feeling strangely calm inside.

“Oh?” Aaron seemed guarded now, careful. It was a defensive mechanism Logan himself had used far too often.

“I’m not like you,” he explained, despite the shiver he felt at the base of his spine each time he thought about the ways they _were_ alike. “And I’m never going to be like you.”

“Well, you _did_ manage to avoid jail time,” Aaron agreed, all light-hearted banter that belied the seriousness of their conversation.

Logan let out a deep breath. Fuck, but this shouldn’t have to be so hard. “If you ever come near her again…or her family…or _our_ family…” He let the threat trail off.

“You have any objections to me just dying in a corner?” Aaron demanded bitterly.

“None,” he agreed with great false joy.

Aaron rose slowly from his seat, arms muscles flexing as he pressed against the table. He’d obviously been taking advantage of the weight rooms Logan had seen in every single prison movie ever made. “I do wish you the best of luck,” Aaron offered, face looking stripped bare, like just _maybe_ this was who he actually was.

Logan knew that at one time he would have felt intimidated by this situation, but he just didn’t anymore. Fear and pain both faded with time…

Aaron approached him cautiously, as if anticipating a blow, which was ironic when Logan thought about it. He rested one hand on Logan’s shoulder in a gesture that was so damned _paternal_ that Logan couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

“I’ve missed you,” Aaron insisted.

“Whatever you say, dad.” He didn’t pull away, though. His flinching instinct seemed to have faded with time, and hell. It was Christmas, after all…

“I love you.”

And maybe, in his own twisted mind, his father really _did_ love him. Logan had long since given up on trying to get answers. ‘Why?’ seemed like a question that not even Aaron was capable of answering in any satisfactory way.

“Yeah, sure,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do my damned best not to return the sentiment.” He offered his father an insolent little smile.

Aaron just smiled back. It was more than he’d had a right to expect in a lifetime, after all. “You could come and visit me more often…”

“Don’t get me wrong. I still hate you, too. And I’ll _never_ forgive you.”

“But you came this time.”

Logan raised one finger. “Once.”

“Merry Christmas.”

It was so very much time to get out of there. Thankfully, the guard agreed with him. He left the prison, not knowing whether he was traumatized or relieved, or whether that conversation had settled anything whatsoever. But it could have worse, he supposed. They could have tried to strangle each other to death…

***

“You don’t owe him anything,” was all Veronica had said when he’d told her what he’d done that day.

“It should work that way,” he’d answered, letting the feeling of her fingers stroking through his hair soothe him, “but it doesn’t…”


	5. Chapter 5

The phone number that had issued Veronica’s call the previous night appeared via a text message from Clarence Wiedman at noon the next day, several hours after their morning call. Seven digits followed by the quick message ‘Your instincts were correct.’ Of course, the head of Kane Security was the only person in the known universe who bothered to text message in complete sentences with actual, honest-to-god correct punctuation at the end.

She’d crosschecked the number with the list he’d given her, and felt her stomach bottom out. Neatly, in her own handwriting was the caller’s name:

 _Duncan Kane_

A part of her mind couldn’t quite process it. She’d called Clarence, thanked him, said that she’d deal with the matter. She was sure he was more than grateful. After all, he didn’t want to lose his bread and butter.

She had yet to decide what she would actually _do_ , however. Because, no matter how much she tried to wrap her mind around the concept, Senator-Elect Duncan Kane sneaking off in the middle of the night to make lame calls to his ex-girlfriend from high-school just didn’t make _sense_ , dammit. Or maybe she was overestimating him yet again, putting him up on that pedestal where he could do no wrong. She didn’t think so, though. The M.O. _did_ seem screwy. Or maybe she just wanted to avoid the inevitable confrontation that would ensue…

And, for the moment, she had _more_ than enough things to distract her. Thursday had gone by horribly quickly, and she and Logan had been pretty much joined at the palm for the last twenty-four hours. She wasn’t even sure which one of them was giving the comfort. Probably both.

“You couldn’t have scheduled this thing earlier in the day?” she demanded Friday at noon as the two of them sat side-by-side on the couch, unable to process anything on the television screen, and watched the second-hand of the clock move, _oh_ , so slowly…

“I have to wake up early for work every day,” he retorted. “Hell, like I was doing it for my own wedding.”

“Because, yes, noon is so painfully early in the morning.” She rolled her eyes.

“If I’d scheduled it for noon, we’d just be waiting here at 10AM, just as impatient.”

“Yes, but by now, it would be _over_.”

“No, it would be just starting,” he snapped.

“All right, that’s it.” Keith let out an exasperated sigh. “We’re driving to the courthouse. _Now_.”

They both blinked at him wide-eyed.

“Now, people.” He clapped his hands.

Funny how activity always seemed superior to waiting until you were actually forced into it…

***

Logan stared ahead at nothing and tapped his fingers absentmindedly against the dashboard as Keith, with seemingly endless effort and attention to detail, started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. Veronica and Andrea had pulled out in the Beemer ahead of them and had already vanished around the corner. There was only one possible explanation for the division of cars: More Logan torture.

“You know, Veronica and I have already brought on all the bad luck of seeing each other on our wedding day.” Hell, if he was going out without some good snark.

“You nervous?” Keith asked, finally heading off for their destination. “You seem nervous.”

“Is this the kinder, gentler version of the ‘hurt my daughter and I’ll kill you’ speech?” Logan bit back.

Keith snorted. “Why on earth would I say anything like that?”

“Because you think it. Non-stop,” Logan accused. Momentous occasions certainly didn’t seem to do anything for his amicability.

“Maybe I did at first,” Keith conceded, turning onto Blanco and heading north.

“At first, my ass,” Logan grumbled in his seat. “You’ve had it in for me from day one.”

“From day one? Yes. But around day one-hundred or so? It seemed like time to reconsider.”

“You know what they say,” Logan flicked at the air vent, looking out the passenger window so he didn’t have to look at Veronica’s dad, “one-hundred-first time’s the charm. Oh, wait. No, they don’t…”

Keith chuckled to himself. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Smart off. You’re lucky I like smart mouths. Raised one of them myself.”

“I’ve noticed,” Logan offered softly.

Keith took a deep breath. “Look, I know you think I hate you, but I don’t, okay?”

“Right. Whatever you say, Mr. Mars.”

“I’m serious,” Keith insisted. “You obviously love my daughter, and when I see the smile on her face when she looks at you…”

Logan couldn’t help but calm under the memory of Veronica’s smile. God, he was so far-gone, it was pathetic. Good thing he was getting married, so that his complete and utter sappiness would be justified by law.

“I think you’ve been good for her,” Keith finally finished. “I was worried about her, you know? After Lilly died. She got so cold and distant.”

“It’s called being a teenager.”

Keith laughed at that. “Yeah, you’ve got me there. But it was more than that.” He caught Logan’s eyes for a moment before turning back to the road. “So, thanks for annoying her out of her rut.”

Logan snorted in amusement.

“You’ve been together, what? Ten years now?”

Logan nodded. “Off and on before that. Although, technically, you should probably subtract the years I was in law school. I was less of a boyfriend then, and more of an information-inhaling robot.”

Keith’s laugh was lighter, easier this time. Almost… _comfortable_. “Then I’d say the time for ‘hurt my daughter’ speeches has long past. Besides, she’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

Logan turned to look at him sharply at that, more surprised than he’d ever been by anything Keith had ever said to him in his life.

“What, old dogs can’t learn new tricks?” Keith grinned and pulled into the parking lot outside the courthouse.

“That’s the old adage,” Logan retorted weakly, noting that his car was already parked further down the lot, although apparently Veronica and Andrea had already gone in.

Keith sat there for a moment, watching Logan compose himself. “You look good.” He reached over to adjust Logan’s tie slightly. “Scared stiff, but good.”

Logan grimaced. “You’d think this wouldn’t be intimidating…”

Keith batted one hand in the air. “Nah. You’d miss out on half the experience if you weren’t jumpy.”

“That’s the fun part?” he retorted skeptically.

“Nope.” And the evil glint in Keith’s eyes promised that no good would come next. “The sex to let off steam afterwards is the good part.”

“Oh, _god_!”

***

“Do you feel any different?”

Logan studied their linked hands and considered. “I feel a little traumatized by the sex-talk your dad gave me on the way to the courthouse.”

“Oh, _god_!”

“That’s what I said.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently, eyes fixed upon the plain, platinum band that now rested next to her engagement ring. It matched the ring on his own finger, and for some reason that thought made him feel all warm inside, like a part of Veronica would always be with him now.

“So does this mean you’re not in the mood to steal my innocence?” she asked coyly, fluttering her lashes.

He laughed a deep, ragged laugh against her cheek as he rolled their bodies together, finally coming to rest on top of her, chests pressed together, arms only allowing a manageable fraction of his weight to press her into the hotel mattress. “Yes, after twelve long years of waiting, we can both finally lose our virginity,” he retorted wryly. His hands slid up under the simple blue dress she’d worn that day and pulled it up over her head. “Mmm,” he practically purred against the flesh of her breast.

She tisked as he unhooked her bra and tasted the skin of her breast with warm, wet tongue. “Uh-oh, honey. I’m starting to suspect that this isn’t your first time…” She pulled him back up to her and nibbled along the line of his collarbone in that way that always drove him absolutely _mad_.

“And you’re…” he let out a sharp gasp before holding the air deep in his lungs in sudden pleasure as she cupped his erection through his pants, “…awfully eager for a blushing virgin…”

“Does this mean that we don’t get to share that one crystal-pure moment when we shatter each other’s virtue?”

He laughed into her hair, and she cupped his ass firmly before roughly yanking his pants down his legs. He hadn’t even noticed when she’d unfastened them. “Thank god.”

“Indeed.” She pushed him over onto his back, and he rolled more than willingly beneath her. With the flat of her tongue, she laved attention across one sensitive nipple until he hummed with pleasure.

“And here I’d always thought marriage was supposed to make the sex worse,” he moaned.

“You’re just a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

“Didn’t I prove that this afternoon?” he retorted, eyes twinkling with mirth…

***

 _“Mr. Echolls?” the justice asked._

 _Logan let out a long, deep breath. “Well, I was going to say something along the lines of ‘thanks for being the only person alive who’s capable of loving this hopeless curmudgeon’, but then you’d accuse me of not being romantic enough. So, in conclusion, I wuv you beary much.”_

 _Veronica’s eyes narrowed as he slipped the ring onto her finger. ‘I’ll get you for that,’ she mouthed._

 _And to think that they’d almost foregone the fun of writing their own vows…_

***

“What was that for?” Logan flailed a bit beneath her as she swatted at him yet again.

“I _told_ you I’d get you. Thanks for reminding me.”

There was just no way he could let her get away with that, and he suddenly flipped them over roughly, causing her to let out a little yelp of surprise. “Hmm, maybe you’re a virgin, after all,” he pretended to reconsider, scratching his chin in faux-confusion as he situated himself comfortably between her thighs.

“If you’ve somehow managed to forget the best decade of sex in my life, I’m going to have to divorce you,” she retorted, before hissing with pleasure as he kissed his way down her body. He was faster, sloppier, than usual, like he was overexcited. It was good to know that, after all this time, she could still do that to him…

“Like you were such a paragon of solemn ceremony,” he retorted, thumb flicking her clit before that smart mouth of his moved in to take over the job…

***

 _“Ms. Mars?”_

 _Evil glint in her eyes, Veronica cleared her throat. “You’re the worthiest foe I’ve ever met. A strategic alliance was necessary. So, really, I have no choice but to marry you. It just makes my life so much easier.” She took his large hand in hers and, after an initial moment of resistance, fit the ring snuggly on his fourth finger…_

***

“Logan!” she cried out in victory and defeat, clutching at his hair as the tension built up within her to impossible levels.

He smirked against her – “You _know_ you love me when I make you wait like this…” – and granted her her release.

She came in a dizzy, pleasurable haze. Red hot lightning flashes of ecstasy lighting up the backs of her eyelids as her entire body clenched and shook beneath his talented mouth. “Okay, so I kind of do,” she admitted in a lazy murmur as he kissed his way back up her body. “But I love you even more when you’re inside me.”

“I aim to please.” And he thrust inside of her with one easy roll of his hips. “ _Definitely_ not a virgin…” he groaned out as she adjusted to him, allowing him to push in deeper.

“I’m sure the justice would be even more traumatized than he already was if he found out.” Her fingertips clutched at his shoulders, and her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in until he was all the way inside her. The feel of the two of them, locked flesh-to-flesh, took her breath away.

“I get the feeling that not many people who joyously mock the institute of marriage actually bother to get married,” Logan pointed out, moving inside her with long, sure thrusts.

“What can I say, baby? We’re walking contradictions…”

***

 _The justice looked back and forth between the two of them as if expecting some sort of objection. When even Keith and Andrea, standing by as witnesses, seemed to find nothing amiss, he shrugged and concluded the ceremony._

 _“By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife…”_

***

“I still say we should have…god!…consummated our marriage right on his desk. Make _sure_ we were…fuck!…the most memorable newlyweds he’s ever met.” Logan’s voice was starting to break up in rough intakes of air as he moved inside her harder and faster, beginning the inevitable climb towards climax. His fingers slid down to the union of their bodies and began teasing her clit slowly, causing her to rise with him…

“In front of my dad?” Her lips kissed frantically at the side of his throat, tasting him everywhere she could reach. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to kill you?”

“Actually,” Logan’s thumb switched abruptly from clockwise circles to counterclockwise against her clit, “I think your dad actually likes me.”

She froze for a moment, wide-eyed. And, then, exasperated: “I’ve been telling you this for _how long_?” Her heels dug into the firm muscles of his ass, and she arched up sharply, catching him for the deepest thrust yet. Both their bodies shivered with delight at the impact, so she did it again and again and…

His pace quickened rapidly, balls tightening as he reached his final peak, “Can’t… _Fuck_!”

Her fingers buried in the hair at the back of his head, and she held him against her as he came, filling her womb with the sudden flood of hot ecstasy. The biological clock that was ticking ever louder at the back of her head reveled in their mating. _Soon_ …

“Veronica,” he mumbled against her cheek, still inside of her

And his fingers found her again, twisting vigorously now, teasing her mercilessly until finally she cried out beneath him, mouth opened into a perfect ‘O’ of bliss, pleasure-darkened eyes meeting his intense gaze and locking as she fell over the edge in his arms.

“I love the way you look at me when you come,” he whispered against her hair.

It was the sort of thing that just prolonged a girl’s orgasm…

When the streaks of pleasure faded to slow, rumbling aftershocks, she caught his face between his palms, brought his lips to hers…

***

 _“You may kiss.”_

***

…tasted her come on his lips and broke away with a heady gasp.

“And _that_ , dear friends, is how you consummate a marriage.” He didn’t seem to be able to quite pull off the light tone in that intensely emotional moment, however.

“Mmm,” she chuckled lightly, pulling him in for another kiss. “Logan…”

“Oh god, Veronica.” He peppered kisses across her face. “I love you so much…”

“I love you, too.” She pulled his body tight against hers, so that their sweat-slicked flesh fit together perfectly, not allowing a sliver of space between them. He rolled with her until they lay side-by-side, lips joined, legs tangled, and hands stroking slowly, sensuously.

“So does this officially make us sappy romantics?” he wondered, fingers stroking through her short hair lovingly.

“We’re certainly failing in our impression of jaded cynics at the moment,” she agreed. “But I suppose we can cut ourselves _some_ slack. I mean, it _is_ our wedding night, after all…”

“Mmm, lucky us…”

“Even luckier us for actually finding a hotel with a vacancy since someone forgot to make reservations,” she complained, voice light-hearted.

“You mean you didn’t consider your dad’s guest-room a suitable place to engage in this momentous event?”

“You know, as the guy, it really should’ve been your job to, I don’t know, forget anything _except_ accommodations for how you were going to get laid later.”

He laughed and kissed her slowly. “You just like to argue with me,” he accused.

“Why, Mr. Echolls, I believe you’re correct.”

“Why, Mrs. Echolls, those are words I never imagined I’d hear you utter.”

“It’s a one-night special.”

“I figured. By tomorrow, you’ll probably be back to blackmailing your ex with sleazy pictures you’ve kept in hock all these years.”

“Actually, I’ve got you booked all weekend. _Monday_ , I can get back to the exciting world of blackmail.”

“Only a weekend?” he sighed dramatically. “Then we’d better make the most of the time we have.” He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him so that she was straddling his waist.

“Why, Mr. Echolls, are you _willingly_ ceding victory to me?”

“Why, yes, Mrs. Echolls. But it’s also a one-night special.” He winked up at her.

“Then I’d better take full advantage.” He was hard against her again, and she leaned in to kiss him deeply, fully, as she took him into her body, welcomed him, held him…

And they made the most of their night – and weekend – together, indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

“The Kanes are having a small get-together for Christmas Eve,” Clarence Wiedman informed her, after she’d explained her intentions for that evening, and she could just _hear_ the frown in his voice.

“Great!” she countered perkily. “I’ll drop by around eight.”

A weary sigh on the other end. Clearly, he was trying to determine his odds for actually successfully keeping her off the grounds of the Kane Estate. They both knew that those odds weren’t good, especially since his heart wasn’t really in it. “This afternoon would be more convenient…”

“And not getting threatening phone calls at all would’ve been more convenient for _me_ ,” she retorted. “I think it’s about time someone actually had the nerve to inconvenience the Kanes.”

“Eight o’clock, then.” A wise man knew when he was beaten.

“I’ll see you then. And good luck tossing all those wealthy drunks in a campaign-friendly way!”

He snorted and hung up.

***

“Didn’t you tell Duncan’s consigliere eight o’clock?” Logan came to halt at the back of the Kane Estate, on the opposite side from the servants’ entrance.

“Yup.”

“And?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Clarence may be a friend, but he’s still loyal to his employers. He’ll let them know when I’m stopping by.”

“Which means you come two hours early to keep your element of surprise.”

“And hopefully to get another angry phone call out of the mix. I just _love_ it when they’re caught red-handed.” Veronica checked her reflection in the rearview mirror and touched up her mascara. “How do I look?”

“Like a P.I. about to crash a US Senator’s Christmas bash.”

“Close enough.” She leaned in to kiss him, allowing herself to linger over his lips for only a moment before she opened the car door. “You’re coming along for this leg.”

“Joy to the world…” He got out of the car as well and followed her over to the back wall. “Ah, doesn’t this remind me of my teen years?” he commented nostalgically as he gave Veronica a boost over the short section of the wall behind the rose patch. Long, long ago, in another lifetime, it had been the original Lilly Kane’s favorite route for sneaking boys in and out of her house.

Veronica dropped down to the other side easily and readjusted the short black dress she wore. “Wait for me by the front gate, okay?”

He leaned his elbows on the top of the wall and winked at her. “Your getaway car will be primed and ready.”

“My hero,” she sighed overdramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up before I suddenly realize that our B&E days should’ve been over _years_ ago.”

“Have I told you lately that you’re sexy when you use cop lingo?”

“You can tell me tonight. Now, shoo!” He waved her away with a grin, watching her ass go as she snuck her way around the back of the Kane house and in through one of the side patio doors. Most other couples he knew would be having a fancy dinner at home with their families tonight. He? Got to help his sexy wife break into a high-security estate. There were times when he loved his life…

***

“I told you to stay away.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really listen to threats. My bad.” Veronica held the tracker out before her and moved through the children’s old wing at the Kane house, through the family dining room, past the library…

“Only a fool wouldn’t take me seriously,” the caller insisted petulantly.

“No, actually, a fool probably would be scared stiff. Because they wouldn’t have noticed that you haven’t managed to do _anything_ besides say a few menacing words.” Phone against one ear, Veronica stopped outside the study doors. The tracker indicated that she was almost on top of her caller. Goodie. “They also probably wouldn’t have the head of your own security force’s guarantee that _nothing_ will happen to any of their loved ones.”

“You lousy little bitch! I have resources! I have—”

Veronica swung the door open to face a very startled caller. “So do I.” Veronica hung up. “And I _told_ you not to underestimate me.”

Denise Kane froze, Lilly cradled with one land and a cell phone in the other, a look of pure guilt on her face. “How did you…?”

“It wasn’t hard, really,” Veronica shrugged. “My husband happens to be an expert on _your_ husband’s behavioral patterns. He didn’t believe Duncan would have the initiative or decisiveness to pull something this elaborate off any more than I did. Duncan just wasn’t a very good scapegoat for this one.” Veronica shook her head. “Next time, steal John Enbom’s phone instead.”

Denise calmly snapped the phone shut and assumed her usual chilly air, tossing her shoulder-length blonde hair back over one shoulder. “You’re not allowed here,” she insisted angrily.

Veronica didn’t even dignify that with a response. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She stormed all the way into the study.

Denise gave Veronica an incredulous look. “I beg your pardon?” she offered haughtily.

“I’m serious,” Veronica demanded, meeting her head on, jaw set and fists clenched. “What the hell is wrong with you? What kind of psychosis compelled you to start harassing me for no fucking reason whatsoever?”

Her tone rose at the end, causing Denise to look up nervously to where Clarence Wiedman had just approached the door to the study and stood there with eyes narrowed, keeping their confrontation effectively separated from the rest of the festivities. “You’ve completely lost your mind,” she countered breezily, feigning innocence in the presence of a third party and making for the door.

Veronica cut her off. “Oh no, you don’t,” she insisted. “We’re going to stay in here and talk until this is all sorted out. Because, frankly, if I never hear from you again, it will be too soon.”

Denise blanched and looked nervously toward the door. “Clarence?” she practically squeaked.

He didn’t budge, dark sunglasses firmly in place, looking for all the world like he hadn’t even heard her. They both knew that he had, of course. There were times when Veronica loved having allies in high places. “Why are you harassing me?” she demanded, point blank.

Denise sniffed with distaste and shifted Lilly to her other arm. “It was nothing personal,” she insisted coldly.

“You sent me death threats,” Veronica snapped back. “In my book, that counts as personal.”

“You wanted me to just stand by while you ruined my husband’s career?” Denise asked in disbelief.

Veronica let out a bark of laughter. “Your husband’s career? _That’s_ what this is about?” She let out a frustrated sigh. “I couldn’t possibly care _less_ about Duncan’s career, all right?”

“Then why are you even here?” Denise hissed, features raw and twisted with hate. “Do you think I haven’t seen the way he looks at you? Or that I don’t notice the look in his eyes every time he talks about you? His hallowed first, saintly Veronica!”

Veronica felt the bile rise in her throat, but bit it down. “Has he even _told_ you about our first time?” she demanded angrily. “About how I was drugged? About how I thought for a year that I’d been _raped_? About how he thought it was incest? About how he abandoned me like I was _nothing_ afterwards?”

“Poor little girl,” Denise countered snidely, not looking in the least surprised by any of these details. _Celeste, undoubtedly…_ “And yet you still come running to him at the first mention of his name.”

Veronica’s eyes darkened. “I came,” she corrected, “because I was being attacked. But don’t you think for a minute that I _ever_ want anything to do with Duncan again. Do you have any idea how long I was ashamed? How long I tried to convince myself that, as long as I forgave him, tried to be with him again, that there was nothing _wrong_ with what he’d done to me?” And Veronica realized much to her dismay that she was crying, which was really the last thing she wanted to do in front of Duncan’s wife, but if that was what it took, then so be it.

“Then, fine!” Denise snapped. “If you don’t want him anymore, let him go! Do you really think I want _your_ face in our bedroom every night?”

“I _have_ let him go,” Veronica informed her with such conviction that even she could see the sudden light of understanding deep in Denise’s eyes. “I let him go a long time ago…”

There was no response to that.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to _my_ husband and just be happy for once, okay?” She wiped at her cheek and was relieved to discover that the tears had stopped. Her mascara was probably shot to hell, though.

“Okay…” It was a defeated whisper, and Denise collapsed onto the couch, Lilly still cradled tightly in her arms. She looked like a woman who’d been ready to fight to the death for something she believed in, only to find out that she had no enemy willing to take her on.

Veronica bit her lip. She didn’t owe this woman anything, really, but – hell – it was Christmas, and a good old friend of hers had once let her know in no uncertain terms that she was a complete marshmallow. “I won’t hurt him,” she offered softly. “I will _never_ come forward with any of this, I promise. I just want it all to stay in the past where it belongs.”

Denise nodded sharply. “You leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Deal,” Veronica agreed, turning to leave. Clarence stepped to the side easily to let her go, but she paused in the doorway. “Just one thought,” she offered.

“Oh?”

“Being married to Duncan Kane isn’t the be-all and end-all of existence.”

“And being married to Logan Echolls is?” Denise bit back.

“No,” Veronica agreed, “it’s just an added bonus.”

“An added bonus?” Denise raised one immaculately sculpted eyebrow. She obviously found that sentiment less than ideal.

It sounded about right to Veronica, though. “If Duncan really makes you this insecure,” she offered in parting, “maybe you should think about putting the blame where it belongs.”

 _On him._

There’d been a time in her life when she hadn’t been able to do exactly that, and it had nearly destroyed her and everyone she cared about. It seemed Denise suffered from a similar affliction. And, Jesus, how _did_ Duncan manage to do that to otherwise strong women?

Denise’s head shook slightly, not yet ready to take any step against him. And Veronica just walked away. After all, it wasn’t her life anymore…

***

“Are you all right?”

Clarence Wiedman had been silent except to call another bodyguard over to watch Mrs. Kane as he guided Veronica quickly and discreetly to the nearest empty bathroom.

She ran the wet washcloth over her face slowly, rhythmically, wiping away the tracks of her tears. “I’m fine,” she assured him.

He paused for a moment, and she almost thought he’d gone back into bodyguard mode before he spoke again, “You don’t look fine.”

She grimaced. “Stressful night,” she offered. “But I will be.”

He nodded slowly. “Good.”

She shook a shaky breath and looked at her face in the mirror. Sans make-up, she looked so much plainer, yet so much more _real_ at the same time. So much more Veronica…

“I’ll keep an eye on Mrs. Kane,” he offered gruffly. “I cannot even express how displeased I am that she used Mr. Kane’s personal phone for something this potentially damaging.”

“They _could_ have just accidentally switched phones,” Veronica offered.

Clarence’s eyes narrowed; he didn’t believe it either. All Denise’s talk about protecting her husband, but she’d been willing to leave him to the dogs if it cleared _her_ name. What a family…

Clarence coughed, seeming more than a little uncomfortable with this situation. She supposed it was horribly awkward for him. “If she ever bothers you again…”

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” she agreed with a smile, turning back to him.

A hint of a mischievous grin curled his lips. “You’re _sure_ you don’t want that job?”

She laughed. “Something tells me the Kanes would be less than thrilled.”

He shrugged. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“Merry Christmas, Clarence,” she grinned, before leaning up and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Echolls. Take care of yourself.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his form of address. It was the first time she’d been called that outside the bedroom. It had a nice ring to it… “I always do.”

“Now _that’s_ debatable.”

She laughed and, with a wave, left him to his job.

***

“So, where to?”

Veronica hopped into the passenger seat of the Beemer and turned the heating vent so that the warm breeze blew right on her. “Home, Jeeves.”

“And, by ‘home’, you of course mean ‘that eternal den of torture that is my father’s house’.” He spun the car around in a neat u-turn and headed back out the way they came.

“I thought you’d decided that you liked my father now?”

“Momentary insanity brought about by an overdose of endorphins.”

She smiled and looked out the window. “Thanks…”

“For what?”

“For cheering me up.” She knew that he’d noticed that her make-up had been washed off, and they exchanged a brief look.

“Do I need to bash any skulls in?” he offered hopefully.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “This was entirely bitch-fight territory.”

He snorted. “I _knew_ it was Denise. No one can possibly look that Martha Stewart and still be happy.”

“Wow. Your quips are really dating themselves now.”

“Clearly. I fall to your feet, helpless and unable to resist,” he retorted wryly.

“Mmm, just the way I like you.” She let her arm rest on the back of his seat, fingers brushing his shoulder lightly.

“So, what happened? Was there chocolate sauce involved? Because, if there was, I’ll never forgive you for not inviting me along…”

She laughed and shook her head. “No wrestling. Just a lot of accusations. Pointless on one side, and justified on the other. Can you guess which was which?”

“What’d she think you did?”

She fluttered her eyes. “Why, stole Duncan Kane’s heart, of course!” she replied in a horrible southern belle accent.

“Oh, of course. Damn you for being so irresistible!”

“So, is it cheating if I use this insider information to bet on Duncan and Denise as the celebrity couple most likely headed for divorce?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he retorted darkly. “Duncan has a way of inspiring…loyalty.” It sounded like he’d been about to say something else, but changed his mind at the last minute.

“Mih.” She shrugged, forefinger reaching up to trace the curve of his ear. “I seriously don’t get it.”

He swatted her hand away and laughed. “Knock it off.”

“That wasn’t what you were saying last night…”

“Last night I wasn’t driving my fucking car.”

She scrunched up her nose in distaste.

“What?”

“ _Bad_ joke about stick-shifts.” She shuddered slightly. “It’s better unspoken.”

“Aww, but I love your horrible jokes, snuggly-lips…” he teased.

“Keep that name up, sweet-cheeks, and my jokes will be all you’re getting.”

“Spoilsport.”

Veronica took a deep breath and turned serious once more. “At least it’s over now, and we can get back to our lives.”

“You say ‘our’, yet somehow we’re still staying at your parents’,” he grumbled.

“We can schedule a honeymoon for some time that’s not the holiday season, I promise,” she swore.

“Because, yes. You’re probably running off to Prague next week.”

“Actually, I was thinking of taking up that staff job the Times offered me,” she confessed quietly.

He turned to look at her in surprise. “What? Since when?”

“Since my life seems to be entering this strange, settled-down phase.”

He gulped, catching the not-so-secret desire behind _that_ logic. “Well, your dad will be thrilled…”

“You’re just giving in like that?” She sounded horribly disappointed.

“No, I fully intend to negotiate for a seven-month period, complete with messy arguments and hot make-up sex,” he assured her. “But, when you finally bring me around to your way of thinking, you dad will be thrilled.”

“Ah.” She recognized the white icicle lights outside of Keith and Andrea’s house. “Home, sweet not-quite-home…”

“It won’t be so bad spending the holidays here,” he decided. “Maybe we can get your dad to forego his usual custom and open his gift from me tonight.”

Veronica’s face paled. “Oh no. What did you get him?”

“The first two volumes of the Three Stooges collectable set,” he answered cheekily, hopping out of the car.

“Oh god, no!” she exclaimed, chasing after him. “I absolutely _refuse_ to watch head-bonks and eye-gouges on Christmas, Logan!”

“I think we should let your dad vote on this one, as well.”

“I hate you,” she grumbled.

“Hate you too, baby.” And he blew her a kiss.


End file.
